Waking Up In Vegas
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: This is the ultimate Hail Mary gamble. They're not dying. Not today. / Or, Billy Abbott & his biggest, most worth it gamble yet. BillyVictoria undertones.


**Waking Up In Vegas  
show/fandom: **Young and the Restless  
**central character: **Billy Abbott  
**central pairing: **Billy Abbott & Victoria Newman Abbott  
**summary:** This is the ultimate Hail Mary gamble. They're not dying. Not today. / Or, Billy Abbott & his biggest, most worth it gamble yet. BillyVictoria undertones.  
**notes:** This is the first thing I've written in 4 months and honestly speaking, just getting into Billy's head in terms of writing is way too much fun. I have fun than a normal person should.  
**notes2: **I listened to "White Blank Page" by Mumford & Sons & oddly, it helped.  
**notes3: **This is Billy-centric, but will have Villy undertones. They are my **OTP**. If you don't like them, that's okay. That's why the back button on your browser is there. Although, I'd rather you give honest feedback for the CONTENT rather than the couple.  
**notes4: **Shutting up now.  
**disclaimer:** Nope. These characters are not mine. Just a lowly undergraduate. I make no profit from writing this. I don't own _Walking Dead, 1984,_ or _Scandal _either. Anything you recognize, obviously is not mine.

* * *

Ask Billy Abbott where his belief systems lie and he can't exactly say.

It's an ambiguous grey area.

But here's what he'll probably say in a poor attempt to make it not-so-grey: he's a non-practicing, sin-committing, commandment-breaking something of a Catholic and a little of a fatalist.

Somewhere in between is where Billy aligns himself. Sort of.

.

In Billy's head, everything happens at light speed and it's something out of _The Godfather_.

There's screaming, the popping sound of gunfire where Nikki and Victor get married for like the billionth time. Billy's head is slightly pounding and he wants to put a bullet into that psychotic son of a bitch himself.

When Billy means _psychotic son of a bitch_, he's referring to the crazy hitman.

Adam's too busy bleeding out right now.

Victor is actually concerned, Nick has a look of fear on his face and Victoria kneels at her brother's side with a look of stunned awe in her eyes, then yeah, shit gets really real.

.

Just for a brief moment in passing, Billy finds Victoria's eyes as he helps Nick and Chavez take this hitman down.

She's okay. Shaken but okay. Well, okay, as can be expected in a really messed up situation like this.

He has to hope that Reed is just being a kid, peacefully sleeping off his major jet lag and having kid dreams. He's just oblivious and that comes with the territory of being a kid.

Billy almost envies that because he's an adult now.

Obliviousness in a kid is cute and endearing. Obliviousness in an adult, Billy learns painfully from past experience, is irresponsible and can be reckless.

(Billy is very acquainted with _reckless_. Recklessness is sort of his off again on again buddy but they're trying to break up.)

.

Reed being oblivious and asleep upstairs is probably best.

It shocks Billy how protective he is with the stepson, but then again, not really: he's the best parts of the woman he loves. And hey, Reed's not a bad kid to love – what's not to love?

(He's usually happy to bring Delia along to shindigs like this, but Billy thanks God Delia is with Chloe and Kevin right now and Johnny is in Hannah's capable hands at home.)

.

This hitman is crazy, Billy thinks.

Absolutely batshit insane, because according to him, he's already a dead man and so are they.

"What do you want? _How do I know you_?"

"Who are you? How do you know my father?"

Victor turns away from Adam for a brief moment and declares, "I have never seen that man in my life!"

Surprisingly, Victor actually says that with a straight face.

Billy may not have Restless Style anymore, but that journalistic part of him never leaves.

The pieces of this twisted puzzle settle in his head and he knows that in a Six Degrees of Separation sort of way, Victor gets his own son shot. He's the one who sets up Stephanie to screw with Jack. Stephanie is the walking, redheaded paradox of a politician's daughter and a hooker. Billy hates carrying this secret. He hates this especially after he promises Victoria no more secrets as she gazes at him through loving eyes and rings are mutually slipped on their fingers as a sign of forever and always: his dear old father-in-law brings Stephanie into this cluster fuck of a situation. And now, Victor's pissed off this politician and said politician sends his henchman to kill them all.

He's not in the mood to be collateral damage. He's really not.

Maybe it's the cryptic answers or the way in which he and Victoria come together and split up in the chaos that ensues.

Billy's just thankful that it's not Victoria or Abby on the floor shot and bleeding. He can't handle that.

He could never, _ever_ handle that.

.

"Who put a hit on my dad? Give me a name. Any name."

Crazy Hitman Dude looks at them like he's the only sane one in the room.

(Here's what Billy observes as the room is thrown into a sense of disarray that will not slow down any time soon: Nick just wastes an opportunity to put a bullet in the man's head. Billy doesn't care either way, but then, there's Adam. Billy mentally reminds himself that's it's probably too soon for bullet talk. Even if it is Adam. Especially, if it's Adam.)

.

Billy wants him to pull through. Really, he does.

Even when he does this stupid dance with Darth-Victor and almost sucks Jack in.

Adam does save Johnny, and he_ is_ Johnny's uncle. And there's that time, Adam saves Jack and they develop this really weird, Twilight Zone type friendship that makes Billy's head hurt trying to understand.

Nine times out of ten, Billy's hoping Adam gets shot for being an asshole. Or, for simply breathing.

(But the guy gets plugged while saving Asshole Senior and it's a whole different context. There's hope for the Tin Man yet.)

.

Billy encounters a lot of crazy in his life. He happens to be the son of Crazy (he may or may not mean that in the nicest way. Sorry, Mom) and during his adventures, Billy sees more Crazy in the biblical sense if you wanna get technical.

There's this one girl – her name escapes him, and Billy doesn't care – who has a banging body, and the alcohol numbs him up and makes her less and less of a butter-face.

Her name is Alyssa, or Annie, or is it Alana?

Anyway, she's blonde.

The really crazy thing is that she sings.

No, that's not it because anybody can sing whether being tone deaf is a factor or not. The crazy part about Ali, Annie, or Alana – whatever the hell her name is, he doesn't care – is that songs from Broadway musicals during sex.

She sings _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_, and Billy pulls out after the first chorus.

He escapes through her window semi-hungover and that's the end of that.

(There may or may not have been something of a shrine to Liam in her closet but we're not talking about that. Ever.)

.

The moral to this little anecdote tucked away in the faraway chapters of Billy's life is that a sane person cannot rationalize with someone else who is flat out insane. Even pretty looking drunken hookups. This other girl Billy hooks up (her name is Zara; he remembers that detail, vividly through a drunken haze; it's probably the uncommon name, the eyes that are hazel or green, the distinct olive skin, and her long and dark curly hair) with is a contortionist but she's all normal looking – whatever that definition of normal is.

It's shits and giggles until the pretty girl with the sleeve tattoo confesses with all seriousness that she can eat glass light bulbs and can lie on a bed of nails.

For Billy, there's nothing wrong with freaky tendencies. He's sexually liberal like that.

But when Zara simply smiles and tells him, she can swallow swords, it makes Billy first, cringe, and then wonder other things she's been swallowing and yep, drunken buzz is dead.

See? Insane.

Yet Zara thinks it's the sanest thing – like asking what the temperature on the beach will be tomorrow.

It'll be hilarious to watch his mother's reaction. After all, the woman does ship him away, leaving him in a foreign place where English is the last language spoken even though it is on some level. She drops by until that decreases. Time marches forward and he grows up not to give too many fucks when it's mom-related.

Fast forward years later, Billy is a husband and a father and it's one of the things that make him bond with his mother in a weird way. There's always being a grown-up, too. That helps.

Nick should learn the disconnect between sanity and insanity by now.

.

"We're all dead. Paramedics won't save you."

"You know what? Shut the hell up and go back to that silent thing you were doing. You're starting to bug the hell out of me!" Detective Chavez snaps, not as a detective, but just a man who is frankly up to here with this bullshit. He curses in Spanish and walks away to answer his phone.

Okay, so the detective knows between insanity and rationale and how it's like beating a dead horse.

Then again, Chavez is from New York, Billy hears.

.

Billy would totally make a joke right now if he wasn't piss scared right now. It's how he deals with stressful situations – situations in which the odds totally escape him and it's something out of his control. Not that he's in control in the first place. He deals with stressful situations with humor. Or, scotch. And sometimes, Billy uses both.

He's trying to hide the fact that his heart's racing, his palms are sweaty and last time Billy checked, he's not up for dying.

So is Victoria and Abby so he'll be strong for them. He loves them enough to do that.

(Here's what Billy doesn't tell anybody: being scared really does make his stomach hurt; he's not lying to Dee Dee about that when he gives her the kiddie version of everything else.)

.

In a quiet way too brief moment, Victoria finds him and looks with tears in her blue eyes when everything else is a strong façade. She doesn't want to seem weak – it's her greatest quality; she takes everything like a champ. It's her biggest flaw because Billy wants Victoria to know that he's right there. He'll be right here when she can't be strong anymore and falls pieces. He'll keep her together. Or, try his hardest.

She places her slender hands in his and he silently raises them to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of them.

Victoria says, on a whisper, "I don't want to die, Billy," her voice hitches, and shakes. "I don't –"

He could say he promises. He could say that he's sure. But _promise_ is a word that Billy uses too many times to fix something he breaks without meaning to break most of the time. Billy could take a gamble and say with everything within him that they will not die and leave their children without parents, their families without siblings, uncles and aunts, or their parents without children themselves.

Victoria sheds a tear and he unconsciously wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. He pulls her in, as they embrace and she does that a little tighter, a little more desperately, because maybe there's a little truth in that's hitman's statement – that they're all dead and at this moment, a bunch of sitting ducks set to die.

He hugs her and she's just trembling in his arms.

Billy likes the way they fit against each other the most. He likes the softness of her dark tresses interwoven gently between his fingers. He likes how smooth her skin feels against his. They always spoon after sex, she kisses him – etches those three words with her lips and the stroking of her tongue against his – before sex, and traces her Billy Forever tattoo on the small of her back during sex. He smirks against her skin at the sound she makes at that touch, as she arches into him: a cross between a moan and a laugh and it's the best damn sound ever to his ears.

(There's always a little half-truth in a wide cesspool of crazy.)

.

_I, William Foster Abbott, of sound mind and body – _

.

Then again, no. Screw half-truths.

Nothing will take him away. He promises. It's his solemn vow. His track record of keeping promises all the way is not that great. But he remembers the day he slips a ring on Victoria's tattooed finger. Nothing will take Billy away from her, their family, those that love them and their children. But he will keep this one.

Billy pulls away, from her and presses a kiss to her forehead.

He locks gazes with his wife, a meeting of sky and sea.

"We're not dying, Victoria," he says, so sure he almost believes it. It doesn't matter if he doubts himself and calls his own bluff. All Billy wants is for _her_ to believe it. "Not today."

Like Billy anticipates, a look of disbelief settles in those big blue eyes he loves so much and she frowns. Behind that frown, there is fear. "Please don't say things like that. You don't know that."

"No. I don't. But we love each other. We love our families," he answers, and takes her hand. "And Dee Dee, Reed and Johnny kinda need us alive."

She smiles sadly, and wryly. She kisses him lightly on the lips and pulls away. "Yeah, they do," Victoria replies, with a resolute sigh and a quiet sniffle. "Our families need us."

Even in crappy circumstances like this, Billy flashes his trademark grin. "That's my girl."

"I'm not planning to become a widow. Don't make me one. Please."

The humour is dark, and the only thing that makes sense. But Billy uses that to cope.

"Only if you don't make me if a widower first."

Victoria grins at him, eyes sparkling. "Not on your life, William."

.

There's more chaos as there are red and blue lights and the sound of sirens, distant but there.

Billy kisses his wife once more, and they're split apart by circumstance. Not by choice.

_They're not dying_, he repeats in his head, _not today_.

.

Billy's still kinda scared. He's flawed. He's human, and because, he's human – he's also mortal.

He can hear Dad's stern yet wise voice in his head now, "Life is way too short, and way too valuable. Make memories. Live it honestly, and the best you can. Don't waste it, son."

Basically, he's having a moment in his head when he's becoming aware of his mortality.

(Here's what Billy attributes that moment to: the fact that this is some punishment for watching way too much _Walking Dead_. Then again, Victoria watches too much _Scandal_ – dead people, zombies and crazy politicians. Therefore, art might be imitating life, minus the zombies.)

.

"Hey, eyes up here! What was that before – 'we're all dead'? I don't understand. You got someone on the property? You got a buddy in this?"

"You know, the detective just asked you a question. If you wanna get out of this in one piece, you should answer it."

The hitman chuckles. "One piece. Try a million. Some over there," he gestures to the ground on his left, "some out there," and then he gestures at that open door, and Billy can't deal.

He cannot deal right now. This man is certifiable right now. He's talking in circles, being all cryptic and it's annoying. If Billy wants to figure out things and get answers, he'll probably shake Delia's Magic 8 Ball, do a Sudoku Puzzle or ask the person directly, expecting a direct answer right back.

"Listen to this guy! Who talks like this? It's like you've been smelling fumes – "

By smelling fumes, Billy means this dude is probably high and tripping.

Or, it could be literal.

He pauses, mid-sentence because the air in here smells different. It's strong and sharp and starting to cause a light throbbing in the back of his head. There is only one way to make sense of this man saying they're all gonna die today. There is only one – oh, crap. The answer literally gives him a whiff of the strongest stuff, Billy ever smells.

He doesn't want to say what that smell is out loud.

There is a time to keep things quiet and hush, and a time to be rational and logical.

(Billy is not about being rational right now. Rationality is not really one of his characteristics anyway. Today, he will be as illogical and impulsive as he wants because _they're not dying – not today_.)

.

"Do you smell gas?" Billy asks, to make sure the question actually sounds right out loud, as it does in his head. He asks it again, "_Do you smell gas?_ Is that your plan? You gonna blow us up, Tough Guy? Is that what you're gonna do?!"

Billy runs it down in his head. So, Wheeler's hitman kills Victor, then blow them up with gas helping the burning process so that they all die and are extra crispy as the cherry on top of the Homicidal Wheeler sundae, yes?

(He's equally pissed off and nauseated right now.)

.

"Oh my God. Reed! I have to get him!"

Victoria runs past to get her son who is sleeping upstairs.

It's what Billy wants right now. For her to be focused on Reed, so she can't worry about him.

He's still going to be reckless and stupid and impulsive. But at least Victoria is not there to stop him from going into the basement to find the gas shut-off. Why Billy feels he should be the one to do that, he does not know, yet through a haze of adrenaline and impulsiveness, Billy finds Nick in a moment of responsibility, "Dude, make sure Victoria and Reed get out of here okay."

And then he goes down to the basement.

He promises Victoria not to make her widow.

He promises not to make Delia and Johnny live without their father. Her mother will not live without her son, and his siblings will have a little brother to be loveable and endearingly screwing up but trying to be better after this nightmare.

Billy makes a lot of promises that he's rolling the dice to keep.

.

When someone's about to die, Billy always hears that their life flashes before their eyes.

Whoever starts something like that, is a liar.

.

There are moments in Billy's life that he wishes he can hold onto forever, and there are more messed up, twisted ones that he wishes would fade. But the good, the bad and the ugly moments are little fragments of who he is. Every dark moment, every screw up and every moment of happiness run through his mind in paused fragments.

Maybe it's the gas fumes that permeate through the basement so strongly he has to shield his nose from the fumes, but somewhere in those fragments of Billy's mistakes and triumphs are the days of his children's birth and hugging his mother muddy as she is because the boarding school stuff happens. He can't rewind time. Even though, it would be cool to have that superpower and knowing him, kind of handy.

He sees Jack, Ashley, and Traci in the fragments of his life course, and Billy sees his father, Kyle, Abby and well, even Colleen. As Billy turns the red gas switch down to kill the gas, the last fragment he sees is of Victoria's face – really, the one where she's pissed at him. Because that's when she angrily sighs and runs a hand through that hair so hers, her eyes are their brightest and bluest even when he almost feel the icicles when Victoria glares at him, her deep red lips set in a frown when all he can think about is how awesome it would be kiss them mid-rant (sometimes, he does), and a flush of pink tints the apples of her cheeks when she's yelling at him. And when they argue and Billy believes his points are valid, he's yelling back.

Sometimes, their fights are stupid and insignificant. Other times, their fights are deep and intense and no one shows signs of budging, left at a stalemate. Either way, Billy can't remember what sparks their argument because at the forefront of his mind, is how incredibly beautiful Victoria is incredibly pissed off.

There are times where she takes it as a means to butter her up, but it's true.

Victoria is prim and proper and a tad obsessive-compulsive, but she's mad and suddenly, she is wild, untamed, free, and carries no inhibitions. That is the most beautiful picture in Billy's eyes.

.

When the ice of her resolve and anger melts away, she breathlessly says, "You're such an asshole."

"Quiet, woman," Billy semi-growls, pulls her body to him, kissing her lips before leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. He hears the lightness and warmth of Victoria's laugh ringing in his ears, the tension more sexual than angry in their master bedroom. He smiles against the soft skin and curve of her shoulder. "You talk too much."

"Then, I guess you're gonna have to find a way to shut me up," she replies, seductively and meets his gaze through bedroom eyes. "I'll be quiet one way."

"Oh, baby," he smirks, and is turned on by the way funny way she calmly allows her dress to pool around her ankles when she drops it, her body all his for the enjoying. She grins when there is mischief behind it and he is left wondering what is going on in that pretty little head of hers. "There is NO possible way you'd be quiet during this."

Victoria places her hands on the sides of his face and kisses him, deeply.

There's no use for talking when they come together in a tangle of limbs and kisses. They fall into the sheets and blankets of their marital bed, christening it several times over.

(Billy always knows he's an asshole. But he's okay with being Victoria's loveable asshole.)

.

Whether that flashback is for comfort before the world is left without his presence or not, he doesn't know yet Billy has to believe that the gas fumes in the basement are messing with his vision.

"Oh." The word falls out of his mouth because it's the only coherent word in his head right now. The rest are a jumbled string of swear words that don't make sense in his head – much less, his mouth.

_Holyshit Crap. FuckFuckFuck_.

There's a bomb – numbers glowing red and counting down. His heart jumps all the way to his throat and he can't even begin to comprehend how literal and warped this plan is. He stares at it for a split second, and hopes that the gas dissipates and this bomb goes away.

But no, it doesn't. And once again, shit gets really, _really_ real now.

He rummages through the drawer, manages to fish out pliers gripped in his sweaty palms.

"I don't – "

Shit.

There are two wires attached to this thing, and Billy isn't that great with snap decisions. Maybe, impulsive ones, but not decisions under pressure. Sure, he marries Victoria while drunk and with sand in places he doesn't know sand can go. But that's different. Victoria Newman is a walking contradiction: everything wrong about the Newmans and other stuff that's going against every Newman-hating bone in his body. She's actually sweet. And beautiful, and the picture of her full smile, and her eyes are branded underneath his eyelids. Victoria is irritating, grating, and aggravating, too. But she has all of these endearing qualities underneath the Ice Princess and OCD and Billy may not want her to leave his life.

That's when he realizes he _sortofkindamaybe_ loves Victoria and can't let whatever the hell this thing they have slow down and fizzle out, even though Billy can't understand it himself.

.

(Let's get something clear right now: Jack is the Abbott with the James Bond experience and there's probably somewhere in _Call of Duty_ where bomb diffusion is learned. Billy doesn't level up that far yet.)

.

There's a red wire, and there's a white wire connected to this death trap.

There should be a manual or a really lame rhyme to figure out this bomb diffusion out, but there isn't.

_Red or you're dead. White and you'll be alright_, or something like that. But the only thing Billy has are these damn pliers and time – twenty seconds to be exact.

Okay.

He has to make a choice. So, he uses Delia's method of choosing what shoes to wear in the morning and runs a speedy version of _Eenie Meenie Miny Mo_ in his head.

.

Right now, Billy feels the deep low of a gambling loss and the euphoric high of winning a giant gambling pot at all once.

This isn't about colored poker chips, the feeling of playing cards being shuffled against his hands. All of a sudden, there are human lives in his hands and he does not sign on to this type of pressure.

.

This is the ultimate Hail Mary gamble.

He has to repeat his own damn bluff: Billy Abbott is not dying. Not today.

Here's the silver lining Billy uses to rationalize this and increase his odds of making the right choice, whatever that may be: he has the luck of the Irish in his genealogy, so yeah, in ten seconds he has, he can do this and not leave splattered, burned-beyond-recognition body matter in this basement.

Serves his ass right for making Victoria sit through the original _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_.

.

She watches most of it through her fingers and says she hates him.

She screams a little. Says it again. "I hate you so much right now."

"No, you don't. You love me," he playfully rebuts, only to meet a glare that is just a frown.

"Yes. I do. But you, Billy Abbott, are cinematically disturbed."

"I sat through _My Sister's Keeper_," he argues, during the most gruesome parts of the movie. "You're cinematically boring. You cried through the whole thing. There. I said it."

Her jaw hangs before she glares at him, and lands an especially painful punch on his bicep.

"Ow!" Billy reacts, with a laugh, because Boom Boom Newman makes an appearance. Seriously, though. That actually throbs right now. "There's my wife. All punchy and violent. I was beginning to worry you were getting soft."

"I'm sitting here watching people getting sliced up by Leatherface," Victoria rebuts, and then curls into his fold. "I'm not soft or I would have jumped this couch and ran screaming."

She kisses him firmly on the lips to settle the 'argument'.

Billy will not admit that Pam getting impaled by a meat-hook doesn't scare him still.

Billy doesn't jump – he's just distracted by a sleeping Johnny's Blue Puppy pressing his stuffed snout into his back.

.

"Ah, screw it."

Here's to hoping his genetically pre-disposed luck of the Irish counts for something if nothing else.

.

People react to happiness and relief in different ways. Some people cry. Some people laugh and smile so much their cheeks hurt. Others want to pinch themselves to check if they are trapped between dreams and reality. For Billy, he wants to have those reactions because they all feel very familiar to him – moments of happiness that is mixed with relief for being a lucky son of a bitch. So, Adam's gone to the hospital, and everyone's outside. Billy sits on a step and all feels those feelings all at once.

Really, he's just trying to process what the hell he just does. It's a hell of a fluke that's for sure.

"Nice job on the trigger there, buddy," Chavez says, stopping the thoughts running rampant in his head right now.

"Yeah," Billy replies, and there's a tinge of nausea, too. Guess, it's his body's way of realizing that he's a one-man bomb squad of sorts when his mind can't quite catch up. Yeah, he's a Billy of all Trades. "Just don't think less of me if I puke right now."

.

Victoria doesn't sprint. She doesn't walk. She _runs_.

She runs right into his arms and Billy stumbles back a little, catching her.

"Don't let go. Don't let go. Don't let go."

He's surprised at how tight his wife hugs him back, and he needs this. This is familiar. This is not about death, crazy politicians, and even crazier hitmen. "Hey, hey, hey," he says, to calm Victoria down, as she hugs tightly. "Don't plan on it. Where's Reed?"

"Abby's taking care of him. If anything ever happened to him…"

Billy pulls away, and says, "Well, we're okay. We're all good. But wait until I tell you what I found in that basement."

Victoria's face takes on a look of utter confusion, "What?"

Billy takes her hand and gently pulls her away. He just has to tell someone, anyone.

It's probably one of those instances where if it is he says it, then it's actually fact. He's not telling her as a man who just diffuses a bomb; he's telling her as a man who's up for talking with his wife.

The woman he marries is by no means normal and their relationship is a billion steps from easy, but talking with Victoria is something that Billy can do, even when they banter and borderline argue.

He has to believe that she does that because Victoria cares. Now, that's a fact.

.

She faces him, as they sit on that bench in the foyer.

"There was a gas leak," he says, and then pauses and he finishes. "And there was a bomb."

Victoria blinks at him, almost like it doesn't compute before gazing at him. She sighs, letting out a breath, and Billy's stomach is still in knots and there is something of a breath sitting on his chest.

She drops her eyes, and tucks a lock of hair behind her left ear. Billy can see her brow furrowed in thought – a physical representation of processing this insane night. It's not insane because Nikki and Victor get hitched. That should be a national holiday, but what comes afterwards.

Victoria shakes her head and raises her gaze, "And you stopped it, or we'd all be in the morgue."

Something like that. Billy finally lets out that breath. "Yeah. Basically."

"I don't know whether to slap you for being so stupid, hug you because you're okay and I don't know what I would have done had that bomb blown up, or kiss you because of the gravity of what you did," Victoria admits, with a quiet laugh blended with a sharp intake of breath and a sob. As Billy reaches out to touch her soft cheek, she places her hand on top of his. She smiles wryly and keeps his hand in her lap and says with the utmost seriousness. "I don't think you know the gravity of what you've done."

He shrugs. It's not that big of a deal. Or, maybe it is and Billy's not up for acknowledging his lucky-related bomb diffusion skills. He guesses he uses his gambling powers for the greater good or something.

He's not the Man of Steel and spandex makes him itch as sure as pickles give him hives.

"All I did was get lucky."

Victoria leans over, and kisses him. When she pulls away, there is gratitude and love in her eyes.

"I love you, Billy Abbott. More right now than I ever did," she grabs his hand, and their fingers being intertwined is comforting and makes sense when things are still weird – at least, for Billy. There's the yellow tape and the blood stain, courtesy of Adam but Billy's not talking about that. He simply lifts his wife's hand to his lips and presses a light kiss to her knuckles. She adds with a light squeeze of his upper arm, "Let's go home and get Reed to bed."

"Yeah. Crazy night for the kid, even though he was lucky enough to sleep through it."

Victoria sighs, the fingers of her free hand combing her tresses back. "Thank God, he was asleep. But I cannot wait to go home and kiss Johnny."

Billy is absolutely down for some kid-related normalcy: calling Delia on the off chance that she's not asleep yet, telling Reed a story about robots or zombies (the kid friendly ones because Reed is a little young to be introduced to the awesomeness that is Walking Dead and 1984 might be too scary for him), and then going into Johnny's room only to be greeted by that little funny grin and the fresh laugh of his laughter. All the while, Billy silently wonders how the hell these kids grow so damn fast.

.

All Billy can do is thank the Big Guy Upstairs that Victoria, Abby, and Reed are okay.

.

Billy's musical playlist is comprised of reggae and blues, and Victoria's is made of class rock.

But somewhere along the way, he finds that she likes _Mumford & Sons_ as much as he does, and _Florence & the Machine_ is pretty good.

_Never Let Me Go_ plays softly in the background as he drives them home and Reed sleeps through it the whole way home.

(Here's something that keeps Billy amused when he turns on to Orchard Ave: the image of Victoria's face lighting up during that surprise _Mumford & Sons_ concert in Milwaukee last February. She sings all the words to _White Blank Page_ with reckless abandon before he joins in and then they dance and laugh until they cannot breathe – in the best damn way ever.

Every day, Billy is a little more thankful that Victoria takes a gamble on him, just by staying with him.)

.

Ask Billy Abbott where his belief systems lie, and still, he can't tell.

It's still ambiguous and still murky mess of grey. It probably will be in the future.

He'll always need that shot of adrenaline in his life, and feel the need to tread along the razor's edge. Billy's just wired that way. He'll probably go through phases in his life where he will roll the dice and others where he will fold and walk away.

But either way, here is what Billy Abbott believes: that he happens to be a lucky son of a bitch and he will try his hardest to make sure Victoria is on this crazy, luck-filled ride called_ life_ with him.

* * *

**A/N: I'm too tired to leave anything meaningful, besides the fact that I loveloveloved writing this as much as I hope you loved reading it. Feel free to tell me so when you leave some honest feedback. This is a Billy character study revolved on the Wedding Shooting, so I took that and added my own spin to it. **

**I apologize for anything errors and typos. As I said, I'm tired & frankly in a not-so-great mood, which in turn, helps me be focused. This helped me write my bad feelings away and expel them. For now, anyway. I will give an good lookthrough when I wake up in the morning. It's 2am and I'm dead. **

**Please review. Thank you for your support & feedback. People like you are the reason I take the crazy ramblings of characters on this show, try and make sense of them before writing them out for you guys. So, thank you so very much. I also love the character and the way Billy Miller has portrayed him for nearly 5 years, so my inspiration came from that. I also hope that I did the character justice. **

**-Erika**


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